


When Hearts Like Ours Meet

by accol



Series: 2+2 Verse [5]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M, Nipple Play, Secrets, Singing, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray asks Nate for help with a Valentine's Day surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Hearts Like Ours Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from “Ring of Fire” by Johnny Cash and “Heartbeats” by The Knife (for obvious [Stark Sands](https://myspace.com/starksandsmusic/music/song/heartbeats-songs-for-gem-65167531-71369644) reasons). Who the hell knows what the lyrics to "Heartbeats" mean, so just pretend it’s clearly a romantic song. Bonus thanks to beaumontinvestigations for a great [companion graphic](http://beaumontinvestigations.tumblr.com/post/42647100052). 
> 
> If you squint just a tiny bit, you might see a sort of polyamory here.
> 
> Based on fictionalized portrayals in the HBO miniseries _Generation Kill_. No harm or infringement intended.

“Walt!  Is there a Walt out there?”  The emcee shaded her eyes and peered out into the bar.  She waved a slip of paper over her head, tits bouncing.  “You’re up, sweetie.”  
  
A bellowing cheer rose up.  Doc plucked Walt’s beer out of his hand with a “Don’t worry, I’ll watch this for you.  Sucker.”  
  
Walt looked at Ray with a fairly alarmed expression on his face.  His gaze swept pleadingly over Nate and Brad before landing on Ray again.    
  
“But I didn’t--”    
  
Poke clapped Walt on the shoulder, picking him up out of his seat and shoving him toward the little stage.  “Let’s just say you did.”  
  
“You guys fucking suck,” Walt said, looking more terrified than most days in Iraq.  He took the microphone.  “I’d like to start by saying Marines fucking suck.”  
  
Another round of cheering and jeering swamped the club, the men of Bravo (with a couple of Alpha and Delta hangers on) sloshed their beers into the air.  “Make us proud!”  “Sing good or we’re making you a fucking POG!”  
  
Nate bumped Brad’s arm with his elbow, nodding across their little table in Ray’s direction.  Ray was sitting on the front quarter inch of his chair, fingernails scratching at the label of his beer bottle.  Shreds of it were falling to the floor between his tapping feet.    
  
“Alright, alright,” Walt said.  “If I gotta do this thing, gimme _Ring of Fire_ by Johnny Cash.”  
  
Miss Bouncy Tits queued it up and winked at Walt.  He gave her a cursory nod, ignoring her rack, instead squinting out past the stage lights in the direction of their table.  Nate didn’t think he could see them with the spotlight in his eyes, but Ray still did an awkward, high school crush wave.  Nate choked a little on his beer when he saw it.  It was entirely possible that he would be amused by Ray's utter infatuation with Walt for the next decade.  Probably longer.  He'd never say it out loud except in jest, but it was fucking cute.  
  
A little smile tugged at the corner of Walt’s mouth and something almost like Cash’s voice came out of him.  “Well, this one goes out to all the lovely ladies out there.  Don’t let your heart get broken by a Devil Dog,” he improvised.  The unspoken “because he likes dick” part was only heard by Brad, Nate, and Ray.

  
_Love is burning thing,_  
_And it makes a fiery ring._  


Marines threw wadded up cocktail napkins and bar snacks at him in a fucked up version of roadhouse cheerleading.  

"Hey," Nate murmured, pushing against Brad’s knee with his own.  

Turning away from Walt's performance, they both looked over at Ray again.  He was pounding his beer at an incredible rate, adam's apple bouncing with every massive swallow.  He sucked his teeth when it was empty, lips curling back against the bitter taste, and his eyes never leaving his boyfriend.  Then his fingers were right back at the label, shredding it in a weirdly intense display of sexual frustration.

"What the fuck?" Brad asked, leaning in to Nate's ear.  

Nate shrugged.  All he knew was that it was going to be loud at the house tonight by the looks of it.

Up on stage, Walt’s hand moved slowly up and down the mike stand.  Walt’s faint twang came through as he sang, his voice mellow and strong and sincere.  Ray’s hand shot out to the seat of the chair that Walt had vacated.  He pressed it there in a silent, possessive gesture that only Brad and Nate appeared to notice.  

So much for “always observant.”  Nate was amazed that no one else seemed to notice how transparent Ray was being.  
  
Walt sang, “ _I fell for you like a child, oh, but the fire went wild_ ,” and Ray’s bottle clanked to the floor.  

Then it was Brad drawing attention to them with the laugh he couldn't quite stifle.

 

* * *

  
  
“Can, um, I ask you something fairly fucked up?”    
  
Nate looked up from his laptop where he was undoubtedly writing the grad student version of the Magna Carta or some other brilliant-as-shit thing.  His little smile was aggravatingly layered, saying “what do you ever ask me that _isn’t_ fucked up” and “you don’t need to ask because I’ve seen your boyfriend nut on your face” and “hit me with your best shot.”  Ray was vaguely disturbed that Brad’s ability to silently communicate with Nate was rubbing off on him.    
  
“Ok.  So, you’re into that totally homo musical theater stuff, right?”  
  
Nate’s eyebrows went up.  “Yes, and for once I have literally zero idea where you’re going with this.”  
  
Ray bulldozed onward.  “Seriously, homes, how do people not see how flamingly gay you are?  Shit.”  
  
“Says the man who is basically pissing on Walt to mark his territory.”  
  
“Fair point.  Not that we do that, though.  I mean,” Ray said, taking a minute to think about actually taking a whizz on Walt.  “Yeah, probably not.”  
  
Nate’s fingers moved over the keyboard in a flurry, but he didn’t look away from Ray.  
  
“If you’re emailing this conversation to Brad right now...”  
  
Nate laughed and closed the lid of his computer.  “Fine.  What can I do for you?”  
  
“Well, I was thinking that Valentine’s Day is coming up and can you teach me some romantic shit so I can sing it for Walt?”

 

* * *

  
  
“Ok!  You two go have fun surfing for as long as you want!  Then get groceries!  And beer!”  
  
Brad and Walt both looked at Ray for a long moment before heading out to the garage, shaking their heads as they went.    
  
When they pulled out of the driveway, Nate said, “Subtle, Ray.”

 

* * *

   
  
“No, G minor.  Yeah, like that.  Two bars, then resolve.”  
  
Ray grunted his frustration and shook his hand to relieve the cramp that was turning it into a claw.  They’d busted out their guitars about 75 seconds after Brad and Walt left for the beach.  It was an hour and a half later with no breaks by this point, and this shit is motherfucking _hard_.  
  
“Don’t be using your fancy music words on me.”  Ray let his lower lip push out.  
  
Nate looked up from the fretboard.  Ray could feel his eyes burning into the top of his head, because there was no freakin' way he was going to meet Nate's eyes.  

“You asked for help, Ray.  Learn the chord progression and quit your bitching.  It's going to be fine.  Walt's going to love it.”

 

* * *

  
  
"You're playing again?"  Brad jerked his head toward the corner of the living room.  

Nate raised a shoulder.  "Thought it'd take my mind off of studying for a few."

Brad nodded, but Nate wondered if he was putting two and two together already.

 

* * *

  
  
“God!  Dude.  What the _fuck_ are these lyrics?  They don’t even make sense.  It's like they were translated into Swedish and then into Korean and then back into English.”  
  
Nate rolled his eyes and kept up the melody along the strings.    
  
“Whatever,” Ray mumbled.  “I’m still gonna get my dick sucked for this.  And don't even try to pretend that Brad won't fuck you into the mattress for this.”

 

* * *

  
  
Nate sang under his breath in the shower,  

  
_One night of magic rush_  
_The start - a simple touch_  
_One night to push and scream_  
_And then relief_  


Brad slid in behind him, wet skin on skin, and the words evaporated in the steam as Brad's lips moved along the line of his shoulder.  

 

* * *

  
  
“What’s wrong?” Walt asked, pointing at where Ray was bending his fingers back to stretch his hands.  
  
“Huh?  Oh.  Nothing.”    
  
“You jerking off too much again?”  
  
“Something like that,” Ray said, picking up the remote control and hitting the volume up button a couple of times.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Nate shaking his head.  

 

* * *

  
  
They were barely in the door from the base when Brad spun Nate and pushed into his space.    
  
“Tell me what you two are plotting.  I know there is something.”  
  
Nate smiled broadly.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, so how about rose petals in the bathtub.”  
  
Brad leaned in, angling for a kiss.  “Bullshit,” he said against Nate’s lips.    
  
Walt looped an arm around Ray’s neck a little too tight and laid a kiss on his cheek.  “I agree.  Total bullshit,” Walt said.  “You two are up to something.”  He licked at the shell of Ray's ear.    
  
“Marriage proposals?” Nate suggested while Brad pulled off his skivvie shirt and chucked it aside.  “No?  Ok, how about meeting my parents?  How's that for romance?”    
  
Brad’s tongue pushed past Nate’s laugh as the four of them spilled into the living room.  

 

* * *

  
  
Brad thrust into Nate hard.  “Tell me,” he said between breaths.  
  
“No.”  

Ray could hear the determination in Nate’s voice.  So fucking strong, always.  He was basically just praying that Walt wouldn't start poking at him about it too.  He hoped to hell that he'd be able to keep his lips shut until it was time.   

Nate's voice cracked with the intensity of the fucking Brad was subjecting him to.  “I’ve been through the same SERE training you have, Brad, so you’re gonna have to get a hell of a lot more creative if you want me to spill my secrets.”  
  
“ _Our_ secret,” Ray blurted.    
  
But then it _was_ Walt deciding to get creative.  He had Ray’s nipple between his finger and thumb and was squeezing.  It hurt for a sharp second, and then Walt backed off.  It was something Ray could pretty much ignore at first.  It was just a little thing, barely noticeable with Walt rolling his nipple between thumb and forefinger.  But pretty soon it was warming Ray from neck to groin.  Fuck if Ray knew how his wiring was fucked up enough to have jolts of pleasure going straight to his dick from this.  
  
“Shit,” Ray gritted out.   _Keep the lips zipped_ , he thought to himself.  
  
“Oh, you like that?”  Walt stopped with his fingers because he was an asshole.  Ray sort of wanted to hate him, but his cock was saying otherwise.  “Tell us what you're up to,” Walt said.    
  
“ _Fuck_.  Fine, you sneaky motherfucker.  Just do that thing to my tit some more,” Ray breathed.  
  
“Ray!  Do not tell.  That is an order,” Nate snapped, his hand reaching back and snagging Ray’s wrist.  “This was your goddamn idea, and don’t you let a little sexual torture ruin it.”  
  
Ray groaned.  Walt’s thrusts were making Ray’s head bump against Nate’s shoulder.  How fucked up was it that this was doing it for him?  How fucked up was it that he was getting his ass reamed by this golden puppy of a country boy while future Senator Fick was death gripping his wrist and shooting his load because the most competent Marine in the history of Devil Dogs was fucking it out of him?  No big deal, no big deal.  Totally within the bounds of the crazy shit that Marines do to get off.    
  
Walt leaned down, lips hot and skin flushed. “Tell me what your plan is, you fucker,” he laughed between panting breaths.  The only answer he got, though, was Ray’s strangled, seriously fucked up moan and a chest full of jizz between them.

 

* * *

  
  
Brad was spread-eagle on the living room floor when Nate dropped a damp washcloth onto his stomach with a fleshy splat.  Brad cracked his eyes open, catching the sight of Nate’s dick swinging as he walked past.  
  
“Clean up, and then sit up,” Nate said.  He pointed at Ray and then at the other side of the room.    
  
Ray eagerly, nervously bounced up, wiping his naked body off with Walt’s discarded t-shirt.  “Yeah.  Let’s roll!”  
  
Nate slipped his guitar strap over his head and quietly checked the tuning.  Ray reached under the couch and pulled out a second guitar, not bothering at all with the tuning.    
  
“What the fuck is this?” Brad asked, not sounding particularly pleased as he quickly put the last pieces of the puzzle together.  
  
“You’ve been thoroughly fucked, so please zip it and hold all opinions until the end of the show,” Ray said.  Then he looked at Walt whose eyes were round with surprised pleasure.  With his sex-messy hair, he looked beautiful.  “I love you, Walt Hasser,” Ray said quietly.  “Happy Valentine’s Day.”    
  
Nate’s fingers moved over the strings, picking out the melody in an easy hum.  Ray strummed, joining in with basic chords as he cleared his throat nervously.  Ray’s rasping voice sang the song Nate’d taught him,

  
_One night to be confused_  
_One night to speed up truth_  
_We had a promise paid_  
_Four hands and then away_  


Nate’s soft harmony came in, winding in and out of Ray’s words.  Walt’s smile was so broad it looked almost manic.  Brad, on the other hand, was obviously uncomfortable in the face of a romantic gesture.  His eyes ran up from Nate’s feet, over his dick, landing on his fingers and watching them pick out the melody.  He was looking everywhere but Nate’s face.  

  
_Sharing different heartbeats_  
_In one night_  


Nate sang, putting his heart into it, baring it.  This was Ray's moment, but Nate was pushing all he had into making it perfect because the man he was in love with was in front of him too, still mopping at himself with that washcloth.  A dissonant note rang out as Nate thought of his come and Brad's mingling across Brad's skin right now.

Finally Brad looked up.  He mouthed _bastard_ , and Nate saw past the scowl to the simmering affection there.   They understood each other, poking at all of the tender parts and making each other stronger for it.  
  
The final chord rang out into the room.  Ray’s chest heaved as he sucked wind, his nerves finally getting the best of him as he waited to find out Walt’s response to this hyper-softie moment.  A beat, and then another, of silence as the tension in the room ratcheted up.  

Walt crawled forward, eyes burning.  And then he was tossing Ray’s guitar to the floor with a dissonant clang, tackling him to the couch.  Ray’s dick was in his mouth before his butt even met the cushions.  
  
Nate watched them go at it for a long, affectionate moment before turning to Brad and raising an eyebrow.  He took off his guitar and set it against the wall.    
  
“So?”  
  
“So, do you think this is some kind of _Top Gun_ , “She’s Lost That Loving Feeling” kind of thing?  That I’m just gonna ride off on the back of your motorcycle now?”  
  
“Pretty much, but I was thinking of you riding something else.”  
  
Brad looked at Nate, grumpy face firmly planted there for another few heartbeats more to be stubborn than out of actual anger.  Then it melted away and he smiled broadly.  “At least it wasn’t country music.  I would have kicked you all out and sold the house.”  
  
Nate grabbed Brad by the wrist, pulling him between his knees as he sat on the couch next to Ray.  Brad slid his hand underneath Nate’s ass, taking a handful and squeezing as he licked down Nate’s length.    
 


End file.
